What we do in the cold
by Broken Ice Alchemist
Summary: Romano is left in the cold... and Germany is the only one to find him. Germany takes him into his house, and things get a little crazy!


**Hello Everyone!  
>I was looking up Germano fanfictions the other day and was absolutely horrified to see only one or two smutty ones… so I decided to write one.<strong>

**This story is based on an RP I had with a friend, so if it's a bit OOC, don't eat me. The first chapter is more plot/character building, so if you're only here for smut, skip to the next chapter when it's up. **

**Please enjoy the yaoi goodness!**

**I do not own Hetalia or its characters**

The night was chilly, and the harsh, cold air that blew over Romano's body made him shiver to the bone. There he sat, huddled on a small park bench in the middle of the night, dying of cold. His body convulsed with shivers that took over his entire body.

So it happens that on this particular night, Germany was running late home from work, and caught a glimpse of the poor Italian on his way home. He walked up to the small figure and quietly said, "Romano?"

The Italian looked up in hope, but quickly frowned and looked down again. "W-w-what the h-h-ell do you w-want p-p-p-potato b-bastard?"

At first, Germany simply ignored the rudeness and continued walking onwards. He started thinking about Italy, Romano's brother. Italy wouldn't at all be happy with Germany if he were to ever find out that he had done nothing to help Romano. So reluctantly, Germany turned back to face to him. He really had no idea what to say. "Um… you look cold."

Romano looked back up at him, surprised that he was still there. "Y-y-yeah, I am…. W-w-why the h-hell do you c-c-care?"

Germany raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't say that I care at all, it's just that you look cold." He realised that he was just stating the obvious and that this wouldn't change anything. "Shouldn't you go home?"

Romano shivered even more. "I… I can't, dammit… I've… lost my h-h-home to debt… and economy is b-being a bitch…."

After looking at the poor figure, Germany could help but feel sorry for him. He knew how hard it was to struggle with having no money and having to work for others to get it. It didn't even look like Romano had that at the moment, he was just alone.  
>"Um… well…" Germany could not believe what he was saying, "I don't think your brother would approve of you sitting out here like this… do you want to spend tonight at my place?" Germany shuddered at the thought.<p>

Romano, it seemed, was almost a hundred times more opposed to this idea than the German himself. But in light of his current situation, anything seemed better. "F-f-fine… but only b-because I have nowhere to g-go…" He stood up and frowned, almost falling over. Germany caught him, and steadied him up. Romano twitched away in the other direction, planning to stay as far away from the German as possible.

The walk home was not in itself long, but with the intense unsociable atmosphere which was following them, they seemed to be walking for hours. When they finally arrived at Germany's house, he opened the door and gestured the Italian inside.

Germany looked at Romano. "Are you hungry? My food supply is pretty limited… only wurst and potatoes and some stuff leftover from your brothers…"

Romano looked up at him and glared. "I was hungry… until I heard that…"

The German sighed. "Look, I might have some pasta in the cupboard… maybe a few tomatoes. Will that do?" The only reason Germany was being so sociable was because he kept thinking of Italy… "You'll have to cook it though, I've got no idea."

"Whatever, just give the fucking potato's, you bastard."

Germany closed his eyes, trying as hard as he could not to retaliate. He walked to the cupboard and pulled out all of the ingredients and left them on the bench for Romano. "Just don't make a mess."

"Yeah, whatever," he replied, and he began cooking. "Packet pasta? You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Germany didn't reply. There was silence for many minutes after that, and the two kept looking up at each other at awkward moments. Romano kept sniffing as he wondered through the kitchen. He spilt some water onto the floor while about to boil the pasta.

"You idiot, I told you not to make a mess!" Germany called out, and he rushed to grab a towel to clean it up.

"Hush up!" Romano replied, and continued cooking, and Germany continued running after him with cleaning supplies, which amused the Italian to no end. They both seemed to want to be out of each other's company as much as the other.

As soon as he had finished cooking, Romano began eating it. Germany cleaned everything up while he did. After he had finished cleaning, he grabbed a beer out of the fridge and started to skull it. He couldn't take this any longer.

"Great, we might get a drunk German," called out Romano.

"Shut up!... It's remedial," he replied.

"_Shut up, it's remedial," _mocked Romano.

Germany glared at him some more, and took another swig. He decided to sit down at the other end of the table form Romano. He looked up at Germany. "So where the hell am I sleeping tonight, bastard?"

"Are you implying something?" he glared at Romano. "On the floor of cause. Maybe on the couch, if you behave.

Romano put a fork full of pasta in his mouth. Germany stared at him, disgusted. "You're making a mess everywhere!"

He swallowed. "It's not that big of a deal! Gosh!" he rolled his eyes at the German.

"Look, it's all over you!" Germany grabbed a napkin off of the table and wiped the mess of Romano's face.

"Like I care! And why the hell are you touching me?" He almost shouted.

"I care! And I'm not touching you, the napkin is…"

"Bastard…" Romano whispered, and he finished off his meal, stood up and stretched. Germany glared at him. "Whoa… you don't look very happy, Dr Potato."

"Clean up your fucking mess!" Germany shouted, getting really agitated.

Romano coughed and sniffed. "But I'm sick!"

Germany rolled his eyes and huffed. "Fine!" he grabbed all of Romano's dishes and cleaned them up, muttering things to himself. "If you're that sick, then go into the living room and sit by the fire. Just don't burn yourself. I know you're capable of it…"

Romano huffed off into the lounge room while Germany cleaned up. A few minutes later he was joined by Germany who had brought a blanket for Romano, who was sitting on the floor. "Here you go," he said as he handed it to him.

"Grazie…" he replied softly. To Germany, it was obvious that Romano was unwell, so he didn't say anything at all. "Um… I'm going to try and sleep now, okay? So shut up…"

"I'm not saying anything," replied Germany, agitated. He picked up his book and stared reading.

A few minutes had passed, and nothing had really happened. Romano lay on the ground, physically incapable of sleep. He rolled around a bit, but couldn't find a comfortable position. He looked up at Germany, who was still reading. "You read a lot, don't you?" Romano pointed out.

Germany looked down at him on the floor. "Yeah, I do. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No! Gosh, I'm just stating it," He lay on his back for a few seconds, then sat up again. "Argh, I can't do this… if you're just going to sit here reading, then I'm going to explore your house, because I've got nothing better to do…"

"Yeah, whatever… just don't break anything." Replied Germany, really not caring at the moment what the stupid Italian did.

Romano picked up the blanket and took it with him and walked up the stairs to the top floor. He took a look through a number of rooms, all of them containing things like old flags, books, and other assorted items. At first he was surprised to see his own flag sitting in his study, but then remembered his stupid brother and rolled his eyes. Another flag also caught his eye, that of his brother Prussia. It had been a while since Romano had seen that flag. He smiled.

After looking through boring rooms, he walked up to Germany's bedroom. He looked at the bed, perfectly made. It looked… so comfortable… so welcoming… he sat on it, not caring what the German would think if he saw creases when he got off. Romano's eyelids became heavy, and he had trouble keeping them open. He lay backwards on the bed, not intending to stay… but he ended up falling into a deep sleep…

Germany sat on his couch for a few hours, quietly reading to himself. He was beginning to feel tired himself. It came to his attention that Romano wasn't back yet. "Oh dear… what has he gotten up to now?" Germany rolled his eyes, closed the book and put it back on the shelf. He then proceeded up the stairs to his bedroom to see Romano lying on it, quietly muttering to himself about tomatoes. "Ha, so he really did want to sleep in my bed?" he said quietly to himself.

It was a very big bed, and Romano was lying on one side of it. Germany, refusing to sleep on the floor, had no choice but to lie down on the other side of the bed. So that is what he did.

As Germany sat down on the bed, Romano, who was not fully awake, became aware of another body on the mattress and became excited.

Now, as the author of this story, I am inclined to tell you that Romano, being sick, tired and confused, has absolutely no idea that it is in fact Germany who is lying down in the bed, but believes the body to be that of Spain. So he rolled closer to Germany's side of the bed.

Germany, on the other hand, who is still a little tipsy from all the beer, is also quite tired and confused, especially from having to deal with a rude little imp all night. He lay down in the bed, and fell half asleep almost instantly. He felt another body move in the bed, and mistook it to be North Italy.

So when Romano started cuddling Germany's arm, they were both happy.

**Where will this lead us? :O Chapter two to be posted very soon~**


End file.
